


three days’ grace

by thunderylee



Category: Avenged Sevenfold, Good Charlotte
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, M/M, Misogyny, Multi, POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-02
Updated: 2006-09-02
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Benji needs a break from the Jilary gagfest and takes Shads up on his offer to spend Labor Day weekend with him and the guys.





	three days’ grace

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

> _Friday: the Conflicts_

“You are driving me batshit insane!”

If my hair wasn’t so short, I would have probably pulled it all out by now. As it were, I’m about to spontaneously combust from heterosexual overload.

Joel and Hilary stare at me with wide doe eyes, but I refuse to relent. “No,” I say firmly, cutting off my twin before he can even open his mouth to protest. “All I’ve done for the past two years is watch you two be all lovey and shit with each other. It’s making me crazy.”

Hilary clears her throat in an overly feminine way. “Maybe if you would actually _try_ to meet a nice girl – or boy -” I roll my eyes “- you wouldn’t feel so left out all the time.”

What I _try_ to do is refrain from strangling her. “Joel,” I say calmly, directing my attention to my twin. “Could you please inform your woman that just because she is dating _you_ , it does not mean that she knows _me_?”

“It’s true,” Hilary persists.

“You are so fucking presumptuous,” I snap, darting my eyes towards Joel after the fact. “That means assumptive.”

“I know what it means,” he snaps right back. “And I think you need to leave.”

“Leave?” I look around. “This is my goddamn house. _You_ leave.”

“What Joel _means_ to say,” Hilary butts in, raising her voice and patting Joel’s thigh affectionately, “is that maybe you need a vacation. Away from us,” she adds.

“Didn’t Shads invite us somewhere this weekend?” Joel asks, appearing calmer by the mere presence of Hilary’s hand on his leg.

“Yeah, they’re having this big shindig at Syn’s parents’ house in the OC,” I reply, sighing like a giant emo kid. “They have girlfriends too, though. I think I need to be far, far away from anyone with a vagina.”

“Were you not paying attention when they were talking to us about it?” Joel looks like he wants to giggle at the fact that I said “vagina” but manages to contain himself. “It’s a, um, ‘Bitch-Free Weekend’. Even Syn’s mom is staying somewhere else for three days. That’s why I decided not to go.”

I frown. “You don’t like his mom?”

“No, it’s not that.” He puts his arm around Hilary and pulls her so close that she’s almost in his damn lap. “I want to spend the holiday with my woman.”

“Christ,” I swear, making a face. “Yeah, I think I’ll give Shads a call. You guys will come check on the dogs, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Joel smiles and makes no motion to remove his ass from my couch. “Do you have his number?”

I pull my Sidekick out of my pants and pointedly show it to him. “I had it before you, dumbass.”

Not bothering to wait for his lame response, I dial Shads and wander into my kitchen. Leaning casually against the counter, I smirk when he answers, “Fuck _you_ , Madden. Why aren’t you here?”

“I changed my mind,” I tell him nonchalantly. “Text me directions and I’ll head up there in a little bit.”

“Right the fuck on!” he replies, almost screaming over the laughter and static in the background. “No women, okay? This is our Bitch-Free Weekend.”

“And thus the basis of its appeal.” I open my refrigerator and frown at the lack of contents. “Do you need me to bring anything?”

“Actually…” He pauses as the cacophony of sound fades away. “Could you pick up Johnny on your way? He’s sorta stranded in L.A.”

“Sure thing,” I agree, grateful for some company on the drive. “Where is he?”

“County jail,” Shads says simply.

I am not surprised. “Has he made bail?”

“We wired it about an hour ago, but they won’t release him unless someone comes and picks him up. We were actually going to send Jimmy down there in a little bit -”

“Who?” I interrupt.

“Jimmy – the Rev.” Shads chuckles. “Our drummer?”

“ _Oh_ ,” I say, placing the name but not the face. “We don’t have a drummer, so I tend to forget that other bands do.”

He laughs outright this time. “I can’t wait to see you, man. It’s been too long. Is your douche of a brother coming?”

“Nope.”

“Excellent. Three days of drunken debauchery awaits you!”

~*~*~*~

“You look pretty good for someone who’s been locked up,” I tell Johnny upon springing him from the joint.

He snorts and glares at the dirty-looking men in the cells as we pass by. “Congratulations, you’re the fifth dude to hit on me since I’ve been here.”

“Calm down,” I say, leading the way to my SUV. “I was just implying that you couldn’t have been there very long.”

“Couple hours,” he mutters. “Can’t even take a fucking piss on the side of the road these days.”

“They got you for public nuisance?” I shake my head and turn on the ignition. “Lame. Did they impound your car?”

“I didn’t have my car.” He lowers the window and guiltily turns his head towards me. “Can I smoke in here?”

“Yeah,” I say, holding up my own pack of cigarettes. “How were you getting around without a car?”

“See, it’s like this.” He folds his leg underneath him to face me completely, waving his hands like he’s about to tell some complicated story. “I went out last night, right? Got fucking smashed. Woke up in some chick’s apartment in east central. I took a cab to the club after this gig yesterday, so my car has been in my driveway this whole time. I figure it’s not too far to bus it home, and I’ve got to get out of this bitch’s house before she wakes up, right, so I hunt for my clothes and do the fucking walk of shame out of her complex. It wasn’t until I found the bus stop that I realized I really had to pee, and there was this giant bush _right there_ … with a goddamn motorcycle cop behind it.”

“That’s bullshit,” I sympathize. “He shouldn’t arrest you for that.”

“It was a _chick_ cop,” he clarifies.

I nod knowingly. “So if you haven’t been home yet, how is it that you look like you just got out of the shower?”

“‘Cause I did,” he replies, grinning. “Free hot water.”

Laughing, I pull onto the freeway and lean back in my seat. “How do you manage to get yourself into trouble all the time?”

“I don’t find trouble. Trouble finds me.” He flicks his butt out the window and rolls it back up. “I think it’s because I’m short. You understand.”

“It’s a conspiracy,” I play along.

“It really is.” He looks around the interior of my car and settles on examining his hands. “Hey, Benj, man… thanks for doing this.”

“No problem,” I say, smirking. “You just owe me now. It’s cool.”

His face lights up in the most maniacal grin I’ve ever seen. “No, see, we can’t have that.” Rubbing his hands together wickedly, he adds, “Hmm. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Placing my left hand on the wheel, I bring the other to my chin and tap it thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Do you have any suggestions?”

He appears to survey the width of my console before answering. “I could give you road head.”

I almost jerk out of my lane. “ _What_?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look so surprised. I just spent two hours in jail and not _one_ guy tried to make me his bitch. It was rather disappointing. I even dropped the soap!”

“What about those guys who hit on you?” I ask incredulously.

“They were cock teases,” he says dismissively. “All talk and no action. I even pretended I didn’t want it. Fucking overrated prison.”

“So you’re gay,” I say slowly, trying to make sense of this.

He scoffs and rests his elbows on the console. “We’re all a little bit gay, aren’t we? Now put your steering wheel up and keep your eyes on the road.”

He’s seriously going to do this. Right after I pull the lever to raise my steering wheel, he’s bent over the console with his head in my lap. Glancing down, his black mohawk moves from side to side as he nuzzles his face in my fucking crotch, getting me hard in about three seconds. As my cock begins to rise, he goes about sucking it into his mouth through my pants while fumbling with my belt buckle.

“Jesus Christ,” I gasp, lowering my free hand to cup the shaved part of his head.

“That’s _Johnny_ Christ,” he mumbles against my newly exposed flesh just before swallowing it whole.

There is no way I can actually drive when his tongue is flicking up and down the underside of my cock. I cross the entire freeway in one shot, throw the car in park, and yank the lever that makes my seat go all the way back.

“ _Fuck_ ,” I hiss, threading my fingers through the small strip of hair just to have something to pull.

He takes advantage of my new position and crawls over the console to settle completely between my legs, putting him at a better angle to slide my cock in and out of his tightly-clasped mouth. His hands run over my hips and stomach, caressing my skin in a way that seems too intimate for two guys in the driver’s seat of an SUV. It does the trick, though, and soon I’m moaning breathlessly and grabbing his mohawk with both hands. I throw my head back and jerk my body upwards as I come, and he swallows it all and grins up at me from between my legs.

“Guess we’re even now,” he says, wiping his mouth.

~*~*~*~

“Benji!”

Let it never be said that M Shadows gives weak hugs. I wouldn’t have pegged him as the hugging type in the first place, but I’ve learned not to assume anything about this man anymore. He crushes me and pats my back before releasing me to the others, and it turns out that Syn and Zacky are just as affectionate as he is. After being the meat in a guitarist sandwich, Shads offers me a beer and I follow them through the house to the back patio.

“Benji, this is my dad,” Syn says excitedly, dragging me towards a BBQ grill where an older version of him was wearing an apron that said “blow the cook” and an identical grin. “Call him Papa Gates; everyone else does.”

I politely extend my hand and find myself in a bruising hug similar to Shads’. “Welcome, Benji,” Papa Gates says sincerely. “Make yourself at home. All I ask is that you smoke outside and piss in the toilet.” He glances pointedly at Johnny.

“We only have two extra beds,” Syn adds hesitantly. “So you can either shack up with Matt or Johnny, or they can shack up together.”

“Johnny humps in his sleep,” says Shads. “You’d be better off with me.” He turns to Syn, regarding him skeptically. “And I thought there were only two extra beds to begin with? Where’s Zacky sleeping, on top of you?”

“What is this sleep of which you speak?” Zacky asks, feigning confusion. “I thought this weekend was for drinking. Wherever I pass out is where I’ll sleep.”

Syn shrugs and downs his beer. “So how was jail, Johnny?”

“Yeah,” adds Zacky, nudging Johnny in the shoulder. “Did you get any prison sex?”

Johnny pouts. “No. I don’t think they liked me.”

“Shame,” says Shads, plopping down into a reclined lounge chair. He stretches purposefully and polishes off his beer, letting the can drop to the ground. “I’ll get that later, Pops.”

“You better, Sanders.” Papa Gates waves his metal spatula threateningly. “Just cause my old lady took the dogs with her doesn’t mean you can trash up my yard.”

“Yeah, _Sanders_ ,” mocks Syn, using a nearby twig as his makeshift spatula.

Shads smirks. “What are you gonna do, beat me with your little stick?”

“Little?” Syn snorts and tosses the stick aside. “It’s bigger than yours.”

“That’s my boy!” shouts Papa Gates from the porch.

“We go through this every year, Haner,” says Shads slowly. “Unless you had a growth spurt since last summer, no it’s not.”

Syn leans back in his seat and looks rather smug as he adjusts himself. “I just don’t flaunt my shit like you do. If I wore tight pants and thrust my crotch out all the time, mine would look bigger too.”

Zacky tosses his head back and looks at me upside-down from his chair. “Don’t mind them. It’s become something of a tradition for Matt and Brian to compare their manliness every time the girls are out of sight. Personally, I think they should both whip it out and have a showdown, but they aren’t too keen on the idea.”

“I can’t imagine why,” I reply, trying not to laugh. “Everyone’s already seen Shads’ junk anyway, at least whoever was at the ‘Seize the Day’ shoot.”

Syn and his father start snickering.

“It was cold that day!” Shads exclaims. “And dude, call me Matt. We’re all friends here.”

“Some less than others,” adds Syn, eyeing Sha- _Matt_ with distaste. “And yeah, you should call Matt by his first name, you know, since you’ll be sharing a bed and all.”

“Pay no attention to him,” Matt tells me, rolling his eyes. “He’s a little bitter ’cause he hasn’t gotten laid in awhile.”

“That _you_ know of.” Syn smirks. “Just ’cause I dismissed your girlfriend’s sister doesn’t mean I haven’t been getting mine.”

“Groupie whores hardly count,” says Matt. “There’s something to be said for a woman who -”

Zacky interrupts with a loud noise that resembles a buzzer. “Cardinal sin number one, Sanders.”

“Busted!” yells Johnny. “No mention of females on Bitch-Free Weekend. Your call, Z.”

“What the fuck, you guys,” Matt protests. “I wasn’t even going to say her name -”

“Matthew Sanders,” Zacky booms in this TV-host voice. “By committing a cardinal sin on Bitch-Free Weekend – on the first day even, you douche – you are hereby declared to sing the song of your choice by Panic! At the Disco.”

Syn and Johnny fall out of their chairs in laughter, and I almost lose my balance as well.

“I don’t know any of their faggy shit,” Matt insists.

“Bull _shit_ ,” roars Syn. “You have the CD in your car.”

Zacky gapes at him. “Does he really?”

“It’s not mine,” says Matt. “And if I say whose it is, you’ll probably make me sing naked or something.”

“Trust me, I’ve seen enough of _that_ to last a lifetime,” Zacky says, making a face. “Now sing!”

Matt rolls his eyes again and makes his voice completely flat. “Now I’m of consenting age to be forgetting you in a cabaret…”

~*~*~*~

“I feel like I’m eighteen again,” I admit, taking a sip of my beer and watching the sun disappear behind the mountains in the distance.

Syn belches impressively. “That’s the point. For three days out of the year, we forget about our band, our girlfriends, our _bullshit_ , and just come out here and act like a bunch of jackasses. It was my dad’s idea originally. He did it with his friends and said it kept him young. I have to agree.”

“Your dad’s an awesome guy,” I say, trying not to feel too jealous. “It’s really great that you’re still close with him as an adult.”

Syn grins. “Yeah, it really is. I’m just like him. I figure all I have to do is find a gal like dear ol’ Ma, and -” His face pales. “Shit, don’t tell the other guys I said that, please? I’ll do something stupid, whatever you want, just don’t tell them. I haven’t been busted in four years.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “You don’t have to do anything stupid. I’m just an outsider here anyways.”

“Oh, shut up,” he says exasperatedly. “Matt adores you and you know it. You’re the first person outside of the band to be invited to this soirée, and the only reason he invited your brother was because he thought you wouldn’t come without him.”

“We’re not _Siamese_ twins,” I contest. “In fact, the reason I came was to get away from him. He and Hilary are driving me nuts.” I clap my hand to my mouth. “I just did it, didn’t I?”

He shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t count if you’re talking shit about someone _else’s_ girlfriend .”

“What _are_ the ‘cardinal sins’ anyways?” I ask. “It would be nice to know.”

“They’re just three basic rules for an overall drama-free weekend, and probably don’t even apply to you because it’s your first time.” He starts to count off on his fingers. “One. No women or anything female-related. No calls from girlfriends – no calls from anyone, really, but girlfriends especially. If you have a girlfriend, you don’t talk about her, period. Two, no party fouls. Spilling beer, getting sick, breaking something – the usual. Also with this one, my dad added a twenty dollar fine per violation, ’cause that’s how he rolls.”

I laugh. “I can handle that. What’s the third?”

He sighs. “No fighting. This hasn’t happened yet, but it should be out there just in case. We also added the ’emo clause’ a couple years ago, in which we can rag on each other until we’re blue in the face as long as we don’t get offended. We’ve all known each other long enough that personal attacks aren’t really an issue, but it’s happened once or twice in recent years.” He pauses and smiles. “That’s _it_ , though. Anything else goes. Be as wild and crazy as you want – release your inhibitions. Whatever happens here stays here.”

The “pit stop” on the way here creeps its way to the front of my mind, and I wonder if there’s some sort of amendment to cardinal sin number one that pertains to boyfriends. _We’re all a little bit gay, aren’t we?_ Johnny’s words make me think that he and I might not be the only ones.

My thoughts are shattered when Syn crushes his beer can on his forehead. “ _Ow_ ,” he says pitifully, rubbing the skin where a dark red circle is starting to form. “I always wanted to do that. Guess it’s not as fun as it’s cracked up to be.”

I chuckle. “That can be your stupid thing for breaking the rule.”

He gapes at me, wide-eyed. “ _No_. I forgot about that. Quick, think of something, ’cause I need another beer. The _guys_ are over there, and they can’t know. Seriously. I’ll do anything if you won’t tell them.”

I consider something that might make me better understand Johnny’s cryptic statement, then decide to go the pussy route. “Can I just ask you a question? Like, a really personal one, and you have to answer it?”

He snorts. “We’ve apparently morphed into a pair of chicks playing Truth or Dare. Fine – shoot.”

“Where is Zacky really sleeping tonight?”

Laughing, he looks away. “From the looks of things, he’s going to pass out in his chair. He’s slept in worse places, I suppose.” He glances at me. “That’s not the answer you wanted, is it.” It was a statement, not a question.

“It’s okay,” I say again, a little uncomfortable. “Don’t worry about it. You answered the question – it’s all good.”

He leans on my shoulder to hoist himself upwards, smiling down at me. “He’s been my best friend for ten years. You shouldn’t have had to ask it in the first place.”

~*~*~*~

Matt Sanders is a bed hog. We turned in kind of early for a no-holds-barred weekend of fun, but then again, it had been kind of a long day for all involved. The alarm clock in the guest bedroom says 1:03am; I know this because my face is about six inches away from it. Matt’s got his entire person sprawled across three-fourths of the full-size bed, and my only options are hanging off the edge or lying directly on top of him.

Neither appeals to me at the present moment, and my next course of action is trying to move him. This proves pointless since he’s sleeping flat on his back and more or less dead to the world. In a last ditch effort, I decide to take a leaf out of Joel’s book and poke him continuously in the arm until either he wakes up or punches me.

It takes about twenty pokes for anything to register, and it’s just a low groan of annoyance. Twenty more, and he jerks his arm in an attempt to shake me off. Twenty _more_ , and –

“Baby, not tonight,” he mumbles in a low growl.

Horrified, I yank my hand away and cover my mouth. He thinks I’m Val. While I _could_ use this to my advantage, I really don’t want to be the reason that someone breaks cardinal sin number three for the first time. “Matt, move the fuck over,” I whisper, trying to make my voice sound manly and pissed.

One eye pops open and he frowns. “Fuck,” he says groggily. “Not used to sharing a bed with a dude. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, just move over,” I persist, shoving him for effect.

The fucker closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. Defeated, I roll out of bed and try to remember in which room Johnny is. It’s Syn’s sister’s old room, and there are still stickers and shit on the door from when she lived there. I knock softly, and apparently Johnny is a light sleeper because he opens the door right away.

“Benji,” he greets me, smiling sleepily. “I can’t imagine Matt kicking you out of bed.”

“He’s taking up the whole damn thing,” I say irritably. “If we were fucking, it wouldn’t be an issue.”

Yawning widely, he points his thumb over his shoulder. “There’s only a twin in here, but I don’t mind if you don’t.”

He turns on his heel and crawls into the aforementioned bed, leaving me to my own devices. I shrug and follow, closing the door behind me. In the pitch black of the room, I carefully put one foot in front of the other until I feel the box spring against my shins before slipping in beside him.

“I really don’t hump in my sleep,” he says airily.

“Damn,” I reply. “I was looking forward to it.”

I feel a shift in the mattress as he flips over to face me. “I can, if you want.”

Instead of responding, I blindly reach out for his face and pull him in for a kiss. He reciprocates happily, sliding one leg between mine and slowly climbing on top of me. I’m probably getting fucked tonight, and I’m actually content with the idea. Syn’s evasiveness has irked me to the point where I’m grateful for some sort of finality, someone in this damn house who isn’t trying to fuck with me. I’m beginning to think there’s some ulterior motive in this whole Bitch-Free Weekend.

“You should know,” Johnny gasps between kisses, “that I don’t like to top.”

“Works for me,” I say. “I don’t suppose Syn’s sister has any lube?”

He giggles into my collarbone. “You call him Syn. That’s so funny. And no, I doubt she has any, but I sure do.” He leans over the edge of my side and rummages around in a bag that must be down there.

“What am I supposed to call him?” I take the opportunity to place my hand on his back and move it down towards his ass; his appreciative growl vibrates against my stomach.

He straightens up and hands me a small tube. “Brian. We call him Brian. That’s his name.” I can see his bright grin despite the darkness. “And while you’re back there, mind getting this shit started? I want to ride you, and I’m kind of impatient.”

I withdraw my hand from inside his boxers long enough to coat it with a generous amount of lube before tossing the tube back to him. He straddles me and meets me halfway for a kiss that is all tongues as I rub my finger up and down his crack, stopping just before his hole. I feel his hands on my cock, covering it with a condom and the remaining lube while he pushes back against my touch for more.

“Fuck you, Benji, don’t tease me,” he whines harshly, taking turns sucking on each of my lip rings. “I’m not a fucking girl. Now give it to me.”

“Demanding little bastard, aren’t you?” I reply, shoving my finger inside him out of spite.

“ _Oh_ yeah,” he moans, rocking his hips in time to my motions. “You have no idea how demanding I can be. Give me another, and dammit, make me feel it.”

He buries his face in my neck, nibbling around my collarbone and throat, and I withdraw my one finger and return full-force with three.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses. “Yeah, like that. You listen well.”

I move all three of my fingers in jagged motions inside of him, judging which way works the best by the level of whimpering into my skin. Contrary to popular belief, I’m no expert at gay sex, and I have no idea where this magical prostate is. However, Johnny seems to be enjoying whatever I’m doing, and I’m sure he’ll let me know when he’s ready.

He lets me know all right. In one swift motion, he yanks my hand by the wrist and impales himself on my cock. I don’t even have time to breathe before he’s bouncing up and down, bracing himself on my shoulders, leaning down every so often for a sloppy, short-winded kiss.

“Benji,” he rasps, resting his elbows on my shoulders so that he can cup my face with his hands. “Touch me… _fuck_ … get me off.”

His mouth claims mine once more in such a heated kiss that I automatically wrap an arm around his neck and grab the back of his head. My other hand slides between us until it reaches his cock, which seems rather large for his small stature. He quickens his pace, lowering himself flat against me while I bend my knees in order to compensate for his lack of strength. I stroke him in time to my thrusts, and it isn’t long before a warmth flows past my fingers and over my stomach.

“I can’t move,” he says into my neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I say gently, slowing down. “Do you want me to stop?”

Johnny shakes his head, his mohawk tickling my nose. “No, it doesn’t hurt. I just… I’m done. But you, you keep going. I want to feel you come.”

“I’m going to roll us over then,” I tell him. “Okay?”

He nods and clings to me as I manage to flip us without falling off the bed. As I carefully push his knees to his chest, I feel a soft kiss on my nose and search out his lips before resuming the task at hand. I can feel myself sweating profusely; every nerve in my body seems to be intent on coming as soon as possible. He’s so tight, so hot around me that I don’t think I could last any longer if my life depended on it.

He moans quietly, responding to my kisses more than my fucking. I wonder if his ass is numb. I’m pounding into him, and while his body is visibly jerking at the speed of my motions, he’s kissing me like we’re two teenagers making out for the first time. It’s such a drastic dynamic that it pushes me over the edge. He swallows my cries as I ride out my orgasm, finally collapsing on top of him in a sated heap of sweaty limbs.

“Mmm,” he says. “I’m really glad you decided to sleep in here.”

“Me too,” I reply, slowly pulling out and biting my lip as I rip off the condom. “Where do I put this?”

“There’s a trash can… somewhere…” He’s drifting off to sleep; I feel his eyes flutter shut against my cheek. “I think it’s by the door.”

“Fuck. I don’t want to go all the way over there.”

“Put it on the nightstand then,” he mumbles. “We can throw it away in the morning.”

I do as he says, instantly returning to the comfort of his embrace. He lifts his arms around my waist as though it takes his last ounce of strength and squeezes me weakly. “Hey, Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

“What happens when Sy- Brian’s parents change the sheets?”

He smirks into my neck. “The same thing that happens every year. They don’t ask, we don’t tell.”

> _Saturday: the Craziness_

“Here, take this.”

I squint open my eyes only to squeeze them shut at the horribly offensive sunlight drifting in through the thin pink curtains. “What is it?” God, my voice sounds like shit.

“Papa Gates’ special cocktail,” someone – either Matt or Brian, I can’t tell who – says, holding out a glass of something dark and a handful of pills. “A must have for BFW. Can’t be nursing a hangover all day, you know.”

I blindly accept the items, toss back the pills, and take a huge swig of the drink. It tastes like Guinness. “What is this?”

“Guinness.”

I feel the glass being taken from my hand and roll away from the evil sun. “Wait, where’s Johnny?”

Pushing his hair out of his eyes – must be Brian – he chuckles. “Downstairs eating with everyone else. Dad fried us up a hell of a breakfast. Come down when those kick in, yeah? You know where the shower is if you want to get cleaned up, but really, nobody cares.”

Once he disappears, I start to feel a little better. Whatever Brian gave me worked _fast_. Five minutes and I’m wide awake and starving. I carefully roll out of bed, expecting the pain to belatedly smack my head like it always does; it doesn’t. I am definitely getting a prescription for whatever those pills are.

As hungry as I am, I’m still all sweaty and sticky from my activities in the wee hours of the morning and in dire need of a thorough cleansing. I grab my shit from Matt’s room and make my way into the upstairs bathroom, stopping in my tracks when I see how _elegant_ it is. My house is pretty nice, but this is the OC and I sure as hell don’t have a fucking jet-powered bathtub in any of my bathrooms. Nor do I have a shower stall that takes up half of the wall and has a _seat_ in it.

It’s a hard decision which one to use, but I finally opt for the shower because I would spend the entire day in that bathtub. I stand under the spray for awhile, letting the hot water flow down my body and loosen my muscles, and I’m just about to wash my hair when there’s a knock on the door.

“Benji?” It’s Brian. “I need to come in real quick and grab something. I won’t look.”

“Okay!” I holler back.

He walks in and goes straight for the medicine cabinet above the sink, politely blocking me from his view with his hand. The glass on the shower door isn’t completely see-through, but clear enough for me to catch sight of his very long fingers. No wonder he plays the guitar so well.

“Zacky cut himself with a steak knife, the fucking goober,” Brian explains, rummaging inside the cabinet. “We always kept the first-aid supplies up here because my sister was so accident-prone.”

“Is he okay?” I ask, genuinely concerned.

“He’s fine,” Brian replies. “It’s not exactly a cardinal sin, but we’re making him do the Macarena to The Whisper Song anyway. He’ll secretly love it.”

I laugh as I rub the foamy shampoo through my hair.

“Fucking band-aids,” he mumbles, slamming the cabinet shut. “You don’t happen to have any, do you?” He belatedly realizes that he’s staring straight at me and tears his eyes away. “Sorry. I have this bad habit of looking at whoever I’m talking to.”

“That’s not a bad habit – it’s good etiquette,” I say. “And no, I don’t. Joel’s the one who usually thinks of that kind of shit. I usually just suck it up and deal.”

“Yeah, me too, but you know Zacky.” He chuckles lightly before darting a quick glance in my direction. “Do you still want to know where he slept last night?”

The question takes me so off guard that I drop the soap and cringe as it clanks around the floor of the shower. I leave it there. “Where?” I ask, my traitorous voice lacking depth.

This time he turns his entire person to face me, stepping closer with each beat of his answer. “Right -” step “- on top -” step “-of _me_.” He’s directly on the other side of the shower door, brown eyes boring into mine through the foggy glass. “Would you like me to get the soap for you?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, which is good because I really don’t have one. After pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it carelessly across the room, he slowly slides open the door, lowers himself to a kneel, and looks up at me while reaching for the abandoned bar of soap.

I shiver at the cold air at the same time that he presses his lips to the inside of my leg. He continues upward, eyes on me the entire fucking time, kissing his way up my inner thigh until he reaches the crease of my groin. Then he straightens up the rest of the way and holds out the soap for me to take.

Gaping at him, I grab the bar and toss it behind me, barely hearing it bounce off the tiled bench and back to the floor.

“I lied,” he says simply, glancing down at my newly formed erection before returning to eye level. “I was looking the whole time.”

“Wha -” I start, not knowing what to say. “What about you and Zacky? Aren’t you exclusive?”

He scoffs. “No more than you and Johnny. But if you’re not interested, I can leave.”

My arm shoots out of its own accord to grab his. He averts his eyes to study my grip, and I immediately loosen my hold and instead concentrate on the firm muscles of his upper arm. He flexes one at random and smiles as I squeeze it. “You like?”

“Yeah,” I answer, amazed. “What do you bench?”

“Three hundred,” he replies nonchalantly.

“I would have never guessed.”

“Yeah, well, like I said yesterday – I don’t flaunt it.”

My face relaxes into a smile. “You could probably bench _me_.”

He reaches a finger out to trail along my cheek. “There’s a lot of things I could do to you, Benji, but I can’t say that benching is on the list.”

I start to reply with something equally as saucy, but then I catch sight of his long fingers sliding down his bare chest. He unfastens his belt buckle, taking his time pulling the studded leather through the clasp, and slowly pops open the buttons on his jeans.

He leans through the doorway and rests his chin on my shoulder, and I think that he’s going to whisper something to me but nope, he _licks_ the innermost shell of my ear as his pants hit the floor, and I have to fight to keep my knees from buckling.

“Are you okay?” he asks, a hint of seduction in his concern. “Do you need some help standing up?”

He has obviously rendered me speechless and damn well knows it. His only remaining article of clothing is his boxers, which are just as painfully slowly stepped out of and kicked aside before he finally joins me in the shower stall. He closes the door behind him and turns a knob on the wall that makes the water fall from the ceiling as opposed to the actual shower head.

“It’s like kissing in the rain, almost,” he says, his overly feminine facial features appearing more prominent in the glow of the distorted light reflecting off of the water.

“Except that we’re not kissing,” I point out.

“You’re right.” He angles his head downward, his mouth hovering just above mine; I can almost feel our lips touching. “We should rectify that.”

“We should,” I agree, taking a step forward so that one of my legs is between his. The tip of his cock grazes my stomach and his breath hitches in his throat. “Dare you to move.”

He smirks, his fingers resting lightly on my hips, and a lock of wet hair falls into his face. I reach up to sweep it away, letting my hand linger on his jaw, and he closes the minimal distance between us and brushes his lips against mine in the softest of motions.

Kissing Brian is _nothing_ like kissing Johnny. Kissing Brian is almost like kissing a girl, except for the patch of hair on his chin rubbing up against mine and the very hard cock digging into my hip. He drags his fingers along my waist in lazy circles as our lips connect over and over again.

My body is rooted to the spot; I couldn’t move if I wanted to. My hands are on his arms under the pretense of clutching his muscles but really holding myself upright, and while my lips are matching his kiss for kiss, the rest of my head is frozen in place.

It isn’t until I feel the tip of his tongue run along the inside of my bottom lip, flicking my piercings, that I make so much as a noise. It’s only a little whimper, but it’s enough to make him deepen the kiss. His tongue sweeps across mine and my cock twitches in mid air, begging for attention.

He chuckles in the back of his throat without breaking our listless rhythm, and I almost jump out of my skin when I feel a blunt nail tracing across my stomach and _down_. I moan into his mouth before he even touches me, and by the time his fingers lightly ghost the length of my cock, I’m pretty sure that my knees really are going to give out.

“Sit,” he mumbles against my lips, slowly urging me towards the bench.

He leads me backwards and lowers me onto the seat, pushing me back all the way until the backs of my legs are met with tile. We’re out of the spray of water, but neither of us seems to mind. He climbs onto my lap with his legs on either side of mine, pressing our cocks together with the same delicacy as our kiss.

Wild horses couldn’t have stopped me from tearing my mouth away from his to toss my head back, barely missing the wall. He takes advantage of my exposed neck and kisses his way from one side to the other, stopping to lick my Adam’s apple and sending a jolt of electricity straight to my crotch. All the while, his long fingers are wrapped around our cocks, applying the faintest of pressure and movement.

“You’re killing me,” I whine, lifting my head just in time to see him close his eyes and exhale sharply. His hair is in his face and water droplets fall from his chin; the mere sight of him is enough to make me moan again.

Stroking from base to tip and back, he leans towards my ear and blows a tiny gust of air directly in it. “I want to fuck you, Benji. I want to throw your legs over my shoulders and pound you until you’re screaming my name – my _real_ name.”

“God,” I gasp, grabbing him by the hips to keep from falling over.

“But I won’t,” he says. “Not right now. I’ll make you wait for it, and you can think about it all day, knowing that I could come and take you at any time.”

Groaning, I turn my head towards him, sliding my face along his until I find his lips again. “Such a dirty mouth.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet. You’d be amazed what this mouth can do.”

“Show me,” I say, a small ounce of courage surfacing through all of the hormones.

He shakes his head and kisses the corner of my mouth. “Later.”

My protests are swallowed by his tongue and a rough tug on our cocks. He grunts and repeats the motion, squeezing the heads with his forefinger and thumb. I don’t even touch _myself_ with this much complexity; he has clearly had a lot of practice.

His rhythm becomes more sporadic and rushed, and when his thumb presses into my slit, I come undone in all senses of the phrase. His entire body shudders on top of me, followed by this soft moan that trails off into nothing.

“There’s more to this weekend than being away from the girls, isn’t there?” I ask quietly.

He raises his face to look at me, his skin flushed, and smirks. “Like I said, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

~*~*~*~

Dazed but a little less confused, I join the others for beers at the pool after breakfast. Now that my suspicions have been confirmed, I’ve noticed a lot of little things that I would have ordinarily blown off – the way Brian and Zacky make it a point to physically touch each other, like a pat on the shoulder that lasts too long. The way Johnny and Matt steal glances when they think no one is looking, and the way Brian and Matt will pick juvenile arguments with each other. It blows my mind that they can make it through the entire weekend without having a giant orgy, while at the same time I find it hard to believe that this only happens _once_ a year.

Sure enough, Zacky and Brian are trying very unsuccessfully to dunk each other in the shallow end when I walk outside in my trunks. By the time I reach the edge of the pool, Matt has swum up to Johnny underwater and scared the shit out of him by pretending to be a shark.

“Classy, Sanders,” Brian calls out from under Zacky’s headlock.

Johnny splashes Matt right in the face and immediately swims away.

I shake my head at them and push off into the water, going completely under and relaxing what feels like every muscle in my body. Floating weightlessly, my stresses and worries seem to seep from my pores and fade away. That is until I’m roughly jerked upwards by the hair and find myself staring into the hard, perturbed eyes of Matt Sanders.

“Dude,” he says slowly, backing off. “I thought you drowned.”

I blink. “I’m fine.”

He stares at me and coughs forcefully. “Okay.” He resumes swimming laps around the pool while three pairs of eyes gape at me.

“What?” I demand, maybe a little too defensively.

As though they’re ignoring me, Zacky and Brian turn towards each other and play a very impromptu game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Defeated, Zacky rolls his eyes and heads towards the steps. “Hey Benj, have you seen the gazebo yet? It’s really fucking awesome.”

He’s not fooling anybody, but I play along anyways. “No, I haven’t.”

Brian and Johnny busy themselves with pushing each other off of a raft while I follow Zacky out of the pool and to a secluded area of the backyard. He leads me through these bushes, and contained within is the most elegant gazebo I’ve ever seen. It’s big enough to be an alter, with carved designs and a swinging bench overlooking a hot tub which seems to have been built into the structure.

“Brian calls it the Love Shack,” Zacky says, chuckling slightly. “His dad built it for his mom right after they moved in. It’s completely hidden from everything and everyone.”

“Fucking gorgeous,” I mutter, focusing on an etched scripture in one of the columns. “Is that their initials?”

“Yeah.” He smiles fondly. “Good times have been had in that hot tub over the years.”

“I bet.”

We share a side-glance and he laughs amusedly. “You should join us later, after the sun goes down. The jets are amazing.”

“All right,” I agree, knowing damn well what I’m getting myself into. “And in the meantime? While this is all very lovely, I doubt that you dragged me out of the pool just to show it to me.”

“You’re smart,” Zacky replies, hopping all three steps in one jump and gesturing towards the bench. “You know you want to swing.”

Smirking, I join him on the platform and sink into the cushioned seat. He plops down next to me and kicks off, sending us into a jerky back and forth motion with a tiny squeak of protest from the hinges.

“Don’t worry,” he says quietly. “It won’t break. This chair can withstand anything.”

Leaning my head back, I look up through the slits in the ceiling and towards the clear blue sky. I feel so content, sitting here without a care in the world, the soothing motion of the swing rocking me to comfort.

“Are you enjoying the weekend so far?” Zacky asks, bringing me back to reality.

“Actually, yeah,” I admit. “It’s been quite an… experience.”

He snorts. “We were kind of worried at first, ‘cause you know we’ve been friends forever and we didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“I definitely don’t feel left out,” I assure him.

“Good.” He pulls his legs up to sit Indian-style on the bench, his knee resting gently on mine. “Matt really wanted you to come. He was very glad when you changed your mind.”

“As much as I love my brother,” I begin, “I need to be around guys who-” like other guys “- aren’t with their women twenty-four seven. You know what I mean?”

“I do.” I feel Zacky’s nod through the back of the chair. “That is the entire point of this weekend. Even Matt needs time away from Val, and they’ve been together since puberty. I know he sneaks off and calls her, but that’s only because he’d be lost otherwise.” He pauses. “The thing about Matt is that he’s really protective. He cares strongly about everyone who matters to him and would do anything for them. All of that passion and dedication he shows on stage? It’s _real_ , and it resurfaces whenever something happens to one of us, whether good or bad.”

I make a noise of agreement as I watch a lone cloud drift by overhead.

“That’s what makes him a great lover.”

No longer fazed by these statements, I turn my head to face him. “I wouldn’t know.”

Zacky frowns. “Me neither, but I’ve seen him with Val. Treats her like a fucking queen. Anything she wants, she gets. She doesn’t take advantage of it, either. She gives as much as he does and that’s what’s made them last so long. They look at each other like they’re the only people in the room and every time they part, even if it’s for like five minutes, they kiss and say ‘I love you’ just in case it’s the last time.”

“Joel and Hilary do that,” I say. “It was cute at first, but now it’s just annoying.”

“Depends on how you look at it.” Zacky bounces in an effort to bring the slowly dying swing back to life. “I used to feel the same way, but then I realized that I was just being bitter because I was jealous and now I can’t help but smile at them.”

I chuckle. “Isn’t that breaking cardinal sin number one?”

“Probably,” he replies nonchalantly. “I commit at least five sins every year, and that’s only based on the official list.” He smirks at me, thrusting his hips back and forth very obviously to keep the swing going. “Would you like to punish me publicly, or would you prefer a private show?”

Me = rabbit. Zacky = dangling carrot. What the hell? I like carrots. “You have to give me a lap dance. Right here, right now.”

Grinning wickedly, he uncrosses his legs and sits up straight. “But there is no music!” he declares dramatically, gaping in fake shock. “I cannot _perform_ without a beat!”

“Make your own,” I supply, leaning all the way back and spreading out in anticipation.

Eyeing me saucily, he crawls across the seat until he’s hovering over my lap. He stretches skyward, the muscles in his chest tensing and rippling right in front of me. Hips gyrating in a rhythm that only he knows, he screams, “I’ve been _trying_ so hard, baby… trying to hold back these feelings for _so_ long.”

I bite my lip rings to keep from laughing. Despite the metal rendition of Let’s Get It On, my body is definitely responding to his motions. My hands slide up his semi-wet swimming trunks and grab his hips in an attempt to pull him closer to me.

He smacks both of my hands. “No touching. Now you have to sit on your hands like a good boy.”

“I’m not a good boy,” I protest, thrusting upwards to prove exactly how naughty I am.

He moans softly and falls forward, leaning his forehead against mine. “Okay, I’ll allow you to touch, but you can’t move your hands from that spot.”

“Deal,” I whisper, tightening my grip and poking my nose against his. “Keep going.”

Bracing himself on my shoulders, he rotates his pelvis without lifting his head. “And if you feel _like_ I feel, baby, come on…” He makes this choked, high-pitched noise that goes straight to my cock. “ _Oh_ , come on.” Lowering his voice to a murmur, he tilts his head and speaks into the corner of my mouth. “Let’s get it on.”

My tongue slips out to flick his bottom lip, to which he expeditiously responds by drifting the remainder of the way and claiming my mouth in a rough, fiery kiss. The song instantly forgotten, I pull him completely on top of me and raise my hands to seize the soft flesh of his sides, swallowing his moans as he moves against me.

Our lip rings clank together as we kiss sloppily, each connection of metal on metal making my head spin. His hardness grinds into mine almost painfully through the constricting material of our damp swim trunks, and he must be reading my mind because his hands are at his waistband, struggling to push it down.

“Lift up,” I mumble against his lips, raising him up halfway by the backs of his thighs.

He straightens up the rest of the way, balancing himself on his knees with his crotch conveniently in front of my face. I hook my thumbs into his waistband and lower it enough to expose his cock, which springs free and almost smacks me in the eye.

“We can’t…” he gasps, clutching my head with both hands to keep from falling over. “We can’t, um, spooge on anything. Papa Gates will kill us both.”

“Cardinal sin number two,” I reply, glancing up at him from between his legs. “I suppose I’ll just have to blow you then.”

He inhales sharply and looks down at me, biting his lip rings. “That – that would be nice.”

Without moving my eyes from his, I suck the head of his cock past my lips, flicking the underside with my tongue. He yanks my hair and starts to bend at the waist, but I sink my fingers into both sides of his ass and hold him upright. The force causes the swing to roar back to life, swaying us back and forth while I take his entire length into my mouth.

Groaning deeply, the intensity of which I can feel reverberating through his body, he jerks his hips in time to the swing and more or less fucks my mouth. I hollow out my cheeks, creating an airtight suction, and his rhythm staggers as his breath becomes more audible and mixed with low grunts.

“Fuck, Benji, I’m gonna come,” he gasps, tugging on my hair so hard that I think it might be pulled out after all.

I drag my lip rings along the sides of his cock, and he lets out this strangled cry as his cock pulses and explodes in my mouth. His legs start to tremble as I suck him dry, and within seconds he has collapsed in my lap and clings onto me, wheezing into my neck as the swing slows to a stop.

His hand snakes between our chests and grasps my cock through my trunks. “You don’t know how bad I want you to fuck me now.”

“I don’t have anything on me,” I say reluctantly, moaning softly at the contact.

“I know,” he replies. “Later, I promise. In the meantime, allow me to return the favor.”

I scoot up to the edge of the seat as he slides down my body to the ground, taking my trunks with him. My cock is so happy to breathe that it pops Zacky in the chin, to which he chuckles and seeks it out with his tongue, taking it wholly into his mouth. My hands jump to his head, grabbing fistfuls of his still-damp hair, and he groans appreciatively around my cock.

“I’m going to last five seconds if you keep doing that,” I tell him, fighting to keep my eyes open and trained on the fierce green ones staring up at me from between my legs.

He starts humming – I swear it’s the lead guitar solo in Clairvoyant Disease – as he bobs up and down, once again provoking the swing. I have never had someone with _two_ lip rings suck me off, and he apparently knows tricks that I do not. Within the aforementioned time period, I grip the edge of the bench and push up, lifting my ass completely. Tossing my head back, I howl for Jesus as I shoot my sanity down his throat.

Gravity overcomes my person and forces me back in my seat, where I sprawl out in all of my orgasmic glory and exhale harshly. When I raise my head, I see Zacky holding himself up with his arms on either side of me, the scenery in the background moving back and forth like some sort of hallucination.

“I warned you,” I say defensively.

He grins. “It’s totally cool. Now when we hook up tonight, you’ll be ready for the long haul.” He wiggles eyebrows suggestively.

“I’ll be ready regardless,” I tell him, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Besides, this isn’t the first time I’ve gotten off today.”

“I know,” he says. “Remember where you are.”

~*~*~*~

“Stick a fork in me – I’m done,” declares Matt, scooting back from the table with an unceremonious belch. “My compliments to the chef.”

“Why thank you,” replies Papa Gates, shaking his head in amusement as his son inhales about a pound of potato salad. “Slow down there, Synny boy. I’m not performing the Heimlich on your dumb ass.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” says Johnny brightly. “He has no gag reflex.”

“Fuck you,” grunted Brian through his food, giving Johnny the finger.

“What’s on the agenda for you boys tonight?” Papa Gates asks, standing up and starting to collect dishes from everybody.

“I’ll get that,” I offer, jumping to relieve him. “You’ve been cleaning up after us all weekend. You should take the night off.”

“He’s right,” agrees Zacky. “I’ll help you, Benji.”

Brian swallows his monster mouthful and nods. “Yeah, you two have fun.”

“Fucker,” Zacky mutters with a smile.

“ _Fear and Loathing_ is on cable tonight!” Matt announces from the living room, holding up the TV guide.

“Awesome,” says Brian, stuffing several last bites of food into his mouth before Zacky can confiscate his plate. “Make it sparkle, bitch,” he adds under his breath, winking at Zacky before following Johnny and his father out of the kitchen.

Zacky rolls his eyes. “He’s such a douche. I wash, you dry?”

“Okay,” I concede, wondering why we don’t just use the dishwasher.

Seeing the look on my face, Zacky dumps the pots and pans in the sink and blows his bangs out of his face. “They wash everything by hand except for, like, regular plates and silverware. So they don’t get warped in the dishwasher or something. You don’t know what you signed us up for.”

“Hey, you volunteered,” I point out, leaning over him to grab the sponge and wash it out.

He scoops some soapy bubbles from the rising water and blows them in my hair. “I thought there might be something in it for me.”

I bump into him purposefully as I squeeze the sponge one final time. “Clean first. I’ll get the table and counters while you wash.”

He pouts as I scrub the stovetop, his full bottom lip sticking out in a way that makes me want to throw him down on the breakfast bar. “We’re a lot alike, you and me,” he says casually, up to his elbows in suds.

“Oh, really?” I reply absently, moving quickly from the stove to the breakfast bar.

“Yeah, really.”

“How do you figure?”

I turn around in time to see him shrugging. “I just do.”

“All right.” I head over to the table and wipe it clean, and by the time I come back, Zacky’s got all the clean dishes on the other side of the sink and his ass hanging out of the dishwasher. I couldn’t resist; I walk up behind up and grab his hips, humping him gently. “Look at you, all bent over like a whore.”

In one swift motion, he straightens up, slams the dishwasher closed, and swirls the dial until it starts rumbling. Hopping up on the counter directly above it, he pulls me by the collar until we’re flush against each other and wraps his legs around my waist. “I much prefer it this way.”

I glance at the dishes in the sink. “Won’t they get spots?”

“They’ll live,” he tells me, sliding an arm around my neck and pressing our lips together.

“WE CAN’T STOP HERE – THIS IS BAT COUNTRY!” yells a chorus of loud voices from the other room.

Zacky tears his mouth away and laughs. “I love that part.”

“Want to go watch it?” I ask innocently, running my hands up the back of his thighs.

“Nope,” he answers simply, flicking one of my lip rings with his tongue. “I want you to fuck me right here on top of the dishwasher.”

As he spoke, the appliance roared to life, vibrating my crotch where it was pressed into the handle. I moan quietly, highly aware of the people in the next room. “Not here,” I mumble against his lips. “What if someone walks in?”

“Depends who it is,” he replies, kissing me quickly and lowering his hand to grope me through my jeans. “I might let them watch, or I might let them join. You never know what can happen.”

“Mmm,” I say, certainly not opposed to either of those options. “I don’t think I’m tall enough for this.”

Looking down between us, he frowns. “You’re right.” He hops off of the counter and tangles his fingers in the bottom of my T-shirt, slowly pushing me back towards the breakfast bar. “I guess you get to bend me over after all.”

I grab him by the hips and spin him around, placing my hand firmly in the small of his back and pushing down. He rests his elbows on the counter and sticks his ass in the air, rubbing back against me. My arms wrap around his waist and I slide my hands up the front of his shirt, pulling him back up to me and nuzzling my face in the back of his neck.

“ _Benji_ ,” he hissed. “Come _on_.”

Smiling, I let my fingers trail slowly down his stomach until they rest on his belt buckle. He thrusts backwards impatiently and shoves his hands under mine, making quick work of his clasp and button. “You’re as bad as fucking Brian,” he mutters.

“Fucking Brian is real glad that he was made the beer wench.”

Both Zacky and I swivel our heads toward the doorway, where Brian’s standing and looking smug. Zacky nods up and returns his attention to his crotch, struggling to lower the zipper over his bulging erection.

Brian shakes his head and crosses the room. “He likes it fast,” he tells me needlessly.

“Brian, shut up or do something,” Zacky says bitterly, finally getting his pants down to mid-thigh. “Benji, do me.”

Brian smirks as I look at him helplessly. “I’ll do something, thanks.”

I blink. Zacky anxiously wiggles his bare ass against my crotch and all I can do is watch Brian stroll over to us, almost straining my neck when he takes his stance directly behind me.

“Turn around,” he whispers, resting one hand the side of my stomach and beginning this slow, torturous decent towards my belt. His lips are on my neck, nibbling behind my ear with his entire person pressed up against me, his cock digging into the crack of my ass through our clothes. “Feel like making a sandwich, Benji?” he asks in a low voice.

I moan quietly in reply, one fist tangled in the back of Zacky’s T-shirt while the other reaches around behind me to clutch onto Brian’s hip. Brian easily unfastens my belt one-handed, and my jeans fall to my knees still buttoned and zipped. His long fingers roll a condom onto my cock and grasp it lightly enough to make me thrust upwards into his hand, indirectly humping Zacky into the breakfast bar.

“That’s a yes, Haner,” Zacky growls irritably. “I swear to God, if someone doesn’t fuck me _right now_ -”

Brian responds by tossing something onto the counter and shoving his free hand between us, two lubricated fingers disappearing into Zacky. Zacky arches his back and pushes back desperately, fucking himself on Brian’s fingers as I’m squished between them with Brian’s other hand squeezing my cock.

“Grab the lube,” Brian breathes in my ear, rubbing himself against my ass. “Just put it on my hand, and I’ll do the rest.”

I never thought I would be so grateful for someone else’s assistance in fucking somebody. Blindly, I pat down the counter until I find the tube that Brian discarded, almost dropping it as I try to maneuver it between our bodies. I squirt it in the general direction of my cock, and it must be on target because the next thing I know, Brian’s strokes are more slippery and warm. I look down between us in time to see Brian withdraw his fingers from Zacky and replace them with my cock, forcing it past the tight ring of muscles in one thrust.

“I think you got it from here,” Brian tells me, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Remember earlier when I said I wanted to fuck you until you screamed my name?”

“Yeah,” I manage to reply as I grab Zacky’s hips with both hands and pound him into the breakfast bar.

“Don’t scream.”

With that, Brian’s long fingers are inside of me and I’ll be damned, the magical prostate really does exist. I bite down on both of my lip rings to keep from crying out and try to concentrate on _not_ coming as Zacky’s ass tightens around my cock and Brian’s fingers repeatedly graze against this spot.

“Brian,” I gasp. “Stop. You’re gonna -”

“Okay,” he replies, leaving the spot alone and continuing to stretch me. “Are you ready?”

“Just fuck him, Brian,” Zacky grunts from the counter. “Maybe then he’ll go faster.”

“Demanding bastard,” Brian mumbles as I feel the head of his cock at my entrance. “Enjoy the ride, Benji.”

I lose control of my rhythm when Brian’s cock fills me, but it turns out that I don’t need to do anything past this point but stay hard. Zacky and Brian are apparently in sync on and off stage; Zacky pushes back at the same time Brian thrusts forward, and I just stay still in the middle while I get alternating jolts of pleasure from both sides. It’s so overwhelming that my head falls back on Brian’s shoulder and I don’t have the strength to do anything other than grip Zacky’s sides.

Just when I think we can’t get any closer, Brian crushes us further, bending me over Zacky as I feel his hands pass over mine. Zacky’s groan of appreciation and sudden burst of movement tells me that Brian is taking care of him as well, something I should probably be doing but my energy is nonexistent. Zacky’s breathing becomes hard and staggered, and at once Brian triples his speed and rams into me like a jackhammer, in turn ramming me into Zacky.

Zacky lets out this thin, high-pitched squeal, and his ass clamps around me enough to keep me from moving. Behind me, Brian is pounding away, grunting almost inaudibly and nibbling on the shell of my ear.

I don’t know what makes me look up, but through my clouded vision and the dim light of the kitchen, I can swear there’s a pair of blazing green eyes staring directly at me from the next room. I come immediately, sinking my teeth into Zacky’s back to mute my moans. Brian is right behind me, in both senses of the phrase, and he slows down to a complete stop much like someone might coast into their driveway.

“Get. The fuck. Off me,” Zacky grumbles.

“Whiney bitch,” Brian replies, pulling out of me.

I gulp a breath of fresh air that I didn’t even know I was being denied as I do the same, wavering back and forth like this gravity thing was totally new to my body. I end up collapsing against the counter on the other side of Zacky, jabbing my ribs hard enough for pain to mildly register amidst the orgasmic high, and somehow manage to return my pants to their previous state.

When I return my attention to Zacky and Brian, they’re also fully dressed and snuggling by the sink. “Good job cleaning up,” Brian says with a smirk, surveying the kitchen. His eyes fall on the cabinets where Zacky had previously been standing. “Although you missed a spot.”

> _Sunday & Monday: the sound of Pretenses falling all around_

“Get the fuck up, Madden.”

The tone in Matt’s voice – yes, I know it’s him – is so harsh that my body wakes up completely. I pop open both eyes to see him hovered over me, glaring at me like I killed his mother or something equally as awful. “What?” I ask, my voice nonexistent.

“We’re making a beer run,” he says, grabbing my covers and yanking them off of me. He makes a face at my lack of sleepwear and looks at the alarm clock. “Get dressed and meet me downstairs in ten minutes.”

My eyes follow his. “It’s ten in the morning on a Sunday,” I protest.

“It’s the day before Labor Day,” he snaps. “I don’t want to be at the store all fucking day.”

“Crabass,” I mutter as he stomps out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Looking around, I vaguely notice that I’m in _Brian’s_ room. I don’t remember coming to sleep in here last night, but then again I don’t remember much after that romp in the kitchen. And why does everyone in this damn house wake up before me?

Yawning and trying to ignore my headache, I cross the hall to the room that I’m supposed to be sharing with Matt (in which I haven’t slept yet) and throw on some clothes at random, hoping they match and are on the right body parts. I’m still working on focusing properly as I head downstairs, where Matt is waiting with a hateful look on his face and folded arms.

“I think I should drive,” I say sternly, miraculously finding my car keys in my pocket.

“Suit yourself,” he replies. “Let’s go.”

Driving isn’t such a hot idea without Papa Gates’ special cocktail for hangovers, but better me than Matt. We cruise down the street to Wal-Mart and park in the very back; Matt rolls his eyes and groans in annoyance at the miles of other cars in the lot.

“We’re going to be in line for _hours_ ,” I whine, hoping he will agree and therefore his anger isn’t directed at me.

With a nasty snort, he gets out of the car and starts walking towards the store. Well, that answers that question.

I have to struggle to catch up with him, and my head is pounding by the time we reach the doors and head for the liquor department. We each grab a case and get in the shortest line, which is conveniently about two feet from where the beer was.

“Why did you drag my ass out of bed to come with you if you’re going to ignore me?” I hiss at him, careful not to attract any unwanted attention.

“How does it feel?” he shoots back, not even looking at me. “You’ve been ignoring me all weekend.”

“The hell I have,” I reply.

Matt shakes his head and smiles forcibly. “You really don’t want to discuss this here.”

“What I _want_ is to know why you’re acting like a fucking girl,” I demand, setting my case on the floor. “What do you care if I ignore you or not? You invited me to get away for the weekend, not to bond with you.”

He finally looks at me, his eyes bright and hard. “You have no problem _bonding_ with _all_ of my friends.”

I laugh. “Is that what this is all about?” I set my jaw and stare back just as fiercely. “ _Your_ friends came onto _me_. Ask them.”

“I’ll spare myself the replay, thanks,” he says exasperatedly. “I saw you last night, you know. I had no idea you were such a whore.”

My jaw drops in offense. “You guys do this every fucking _year_ , and you have the nerve to call _me_ a whore?”

“Keep your voice down,” Matt growls through clenched teeth. “And we don’t talk about what happens on this weekend.”

“You’re sure wanting to talk about it in the middle of fucking Wal-Mart.”

“Can I see your IDs?”

Both Matt and I turn to face the impatient-looking cashier and reach for our wallets. Once we’re checked out, we toss the beer into the back of my SUV and hop into the front seat.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous.”

He laughs, this booming roar that overrides The Ministry on my car speakers. “You would think that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I demand, taking a right turn a little too sharply.

He shakes his head. “Never mind. You’re obviously not the person I thought you were.”

Wordlessly, I jerk the wheel into an abandoned alley and throw it in park. “Come on,” I tell him, snapping off my seat belt and flinging open the door. “We’re having this out right fucking here.”

“Having _what_ out?” he replies facetiously, making no effort to move. “Do you want to fight me?”

“If it will end this,” I reply. I step a few feet away from my car and glare at him through the windshield, folding my arms. “Let’s _go_ , Sanders. I haven’t got all day.”

“Which one of my friends do you have a hot date with today?” he asks sarcastically, jumping out of the SUV and leaving the door open. “Or maybe it was going to be the grand finale with all three of them. Leave me and Papa Gates to discuss our old ladies while you have a giant orgy all over the goddamn house.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you think,” I spit, meeting him halfway and getting into his face. “I don’t know what your problem is, Sanders, but if you’re not jealous then you’re making absolutely no sense. What the _fuck_ do you care when they’ve apparently been fucking each other for years? Or is it just because _I’m_ involved now?”

His face falls, his eyes widening like a deer in headlights. I was not expecting that reaction at all; I’m sure my expression is the same.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” I say quietly, taking a step back. “You’re pissed because they’re including me and not you.” I pause. “That still makes you jealous, you know.”

“Trust me,” he replies. “I’ve had many opportunities to get in on that shit, in which I may or may not have indulged in the past. But _you_ … I thought you were better than that.”

“Better than what?” I ask incredulously. “You show me a man who doesn’t respond when someone seduces him and I’ll show you oceanfront property in Arizona.”

He sighs. “That has nothing to do with it. Brian, Zacky, Johnny – they’re whores. They are no different here than any other time, only here they can be whores with each other. You… well, I know your brother has been with Hilary forever, and -”

“Just what I need, someone else comparing me to Joel!” I scream. “Newsflash, Sanders, _I’m not him_. Just because we shared an egg doesn’t mean we act the same. He’s emotional and dramatic and a hopeless fucking romantic – all the things that I am _not_.” Inhaling sharply, I continue to speak without thinking. “Listen up, you judgmental douche. My last serious girlfriend lived in Japan, and the one before that was three fucking years ago and we never saw each other. Some people don’t have the luck that you and Joel seem to have, and those of us who don’t will accept whatever attention we can get. If someone wants to touch me and love me for an hour or so, I’ll fucking take it, and you can kiss my ass.”

Gaping at me, Matt averts his eyes. “I-I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t bother,” I spit, shoving past him to get back in the car. “You know, I would have rather had you punch me.”

He remains standing while I turn my key in the ignition. I lower my window, glaring at the back of his head. “Get in the goddamn car.”

Slowly turning around, he regards me with concern, which pisses me off even more. He approaches my side of the car and frowns.

“I don’t want your sympathy,” I say, focusing on a bird pecking at the ground a few feet away.

“I wasn’t offering it,” he replies. “But you should know that you broke cardinal sins number one _and_ three.”

My eyes dart to his, and I can’t believe it, the bastard is smirking. “We’re not even at the house!” I protest, slamming my hand on the wheel for effect. “And you broke number three before I was even awake.”

“So you owe me two and I owe you one,” he says simply. “Get out of the car, Benji.”

“What the fuck?” I grumble, almost smacking him with the door as I kick it open. “We’re in an _alley_ , Sanders. I’m not singing anything retarded -”

My back hits the hard surface of my car as I’m thrown up against it, Matt’s hands tight on my upper arms. He stares down at me, his eyes warm and persistent. “Kiss me.”

“What? No.” I struggle against him. “Not like this,” I add under my breath.

He lets me go and takes a full step back, his demeanor crumbling. “Fine. How do your words taste?”

By the time I catch onto what he means, he’s made his way over to the other side of the car. I race after him and grab him by the arm as he goes to sit, flipping him around and pressing my mouth against his. We fall into the car as he kisses me back and pulls me into his lap. My hand catches the back of his head right before it hits the console, and I pull away long enough to say, “Not as good as you.”

Matt is a slow and sensual kisser, much like Brian without the underlying urgency. One strong arm circles my waist while the other loops around my shoulder, his fingers sliding up the back of my neck into my hair. His lip ring clinks against mine much like Zacky’s had, only there is no overwhelming desire to turn him over and pound him into the leather upholstery. The jolt I get with Matt is different – not bad, just different, and possibly better.

He shifts us so that his ass is in the seat completely, groaning in annoyance when the console digs into his shoulders. Without breaking our kiss, I reach down along the side of the seat until I find the clasp that puts it down. He catches on and turns so that his entire person is in the car, our weight forcing the seat flat. Sighing in relief at the more comfortable position, he pulls me flush against him and tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

I could seriously spend all day like this, and I actually make a small whine of protest when he pulls away and looks up at me.

“Okay, maybe I’m a _little_ jealous,” he admits, smiling in the rare way that shows his dimples.

I lean up on my elbows and smirk. “Do you want me all to yourself?”

He nods.

“You got me.” I kiss him quickly, smiling at his soft moan of content. “For the rest of the weekend, I’m yours.”

A loud clap of thunder booms and Matt jumps about an inch from the seat, clutching me to him as he squeaks in surprise. “Shit, it’s going to storm,” he says casually. “We should get back to the house.”

It starts pouring as I rush to close the passenger door and roll up the driver’s side window. “I don’t like to drive in the rain,” I tell him, sitting back on my knees and straddling his thighs. “Looks like we’re stuck here for awhile.”

“I can drive,” he offers, belatedly catching the pointed look on my face. “Or we can stick it out until the worst of it is over. You know, people around here drive like assholes in the rain.”

“They really do,” I agree, placing my hands at his waist and toying with the bottom of his shirt. “It’s in our best interests – hell, a life-saving decision, even – to stay right where we are.”

He watches me as I push up the bottom of his shirt, surreptitiously licking my lips at his firm stomach muscles and tattoos. “You’re so fucking hot,” I mutter, tracing the abdominal grid with a finger. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be able to stop touching myself.”

He throws his head back and laughs out loud, the laughter fading to a soft moan as my hands continue upwards, taking the shirt with them. With a frustrated grunt, he pulls the garment over his head and tosses it carelessly in the backseat, exposing his brightly-colored and sculptured chest for my roaming eyes. “It’s better when someone else does it,” he tells me, his breath hitching in his throat as my fingers circle his pectorals.

I lean down and lick a line from his belly button to his jaw, going back over it with a continuous blow of air while trailing my fingertips up and down his sides. He groans loudly and cups my chin with his hand, bringing my head up to look at him. “If you keep doing that, we’re going to have a problem that can’t be resolved right here.”

“What’s that?” I ask innocently, lowering my hands to his waistline.

He stills them and stares at me. “I want to, Benji, really I do. I’ve wanted nothing else all weekend – hell, since I met you – but I don’t have anything on me.”

“This is _my_ car,” I respond, lifting my head to kiss his neck. “You’d be amazed what I keep in here.”

“They… they…” He exhales in aggravation, rolling his eyes. “They won’t fit me. The drawbacks to being… well-endowed, I guess. One of many.”

I chuckle into his skin. “So the rumors are true?”

Laughing uncomfortably, he nudges my lips away. “I suppose. I don’t know. All I know is that it sucks having to buy special condoms and jerk off all the time ’cause nothing else can get me off.”

“What?” I gasp in amazement. “Nothing?”

“Well, you know, I’ve only been with Val, and most of the time I have to stop after awhile because she gets sore.” He frowns. “I don’t like to hurt her. She tries her best to do other things, but her mouth only goes so wide and her hands are small. She gets me close, but it’s not enough.”

“That does suck,” I agree, starting to feel bad about getting him worked up. “Have you ever tried it with a guy?”

He snorts. “Johnny wanted me to a long time ago, but I couldn’t do it. We got pretty far, but he was too fast and impatient and I finally got frustrated and left. Since then, they’ve all stayed away from me in that aspect.” He forces a smile and folds his hands together on my back. “I would let you try, but I can’t guarantee that I won’t do the same thing to you.”

I fall silent, at a loss for anything to say. The raindrops crash onto the roof of the car and flow down the windows, making it impossible to see outside. It’s unusually dark for this time of day, and I’m starting to think that this storm isn’t going to let up anytime soon.

“Who says you get to top anyways?” I say, the thought just occurring to me.

He rolls his eyes at me. “Whether I top or bottom, I still won’t get off.”

“Have you ever bottomed before?”

“Well, no, but -”

My hand slides down his hip to grab his ass as I kiss my way back to his mouth. “You should let me try. I’ll take my chances.”

“What, here?” he reluctantly kisses me back, making this whiney groan in his throat. “I can’t let you do that _here_. I’ve never let anyone else even go back there.”

“No _wonder_ ,” I say, relieved. “It is an entirely different orgasm, Matt. I mean, it works the same, but – it’s hard to explain. I’d rather just _show_ you.”

“Benj, don’t push me,” he says quietly. “I want you, and I want you to do… _that_ , just not here. Okay?”

“Okay,” I reply, defeated. “Man, the rain is really coming down.”

“Yeah, it is.” He looks grateful at my abrupt change of topic and gives me a quick squeeze, pulling me into an embrace where my head fits perfectly on his shoulder. “You know, we still have one sin to repent. Each.”

“Good thing it’s Sunday,” I say, chuckling. “I feel like I should go to church.”

“We all probably need to.” He laughs into my hair. “Can you imagine the five of us walking into a _church_?”

“Zacky and Brian would probably head straight to the Confessional booth,” I scoff. “Together.”

“While Johnny chats up the nuns,” Matt adds.

I crack up, and I can feel his body shuddering with laughter, shaking me slightly. “This is nice,” I say, wrapping my arms around his back.

“This is _weird_ ,” he replies, his amusement fading. “I keep thinking I’m laying here with Val, then I remember it’s _you_ , and you’re a _dude_ , and -”

“Calm down,” I whisper soothingly, rubbing his shoulder blades. “We’re all a little bit gay – it’s just that no one talks about it.”

“That’s what Johnny said,” he says in amazement. “He had just joined the band – I was nineteen and he was sixteen. We were very, _very_ drunk after a show and he wanted to blow me. I thought it was a _brilliant_ idea at the time, until I learned that he was horrible at it and he kept trying to get me to fuck him. I ran straight to Val and told her everything, and she _laughed_ at me. She told me it’s not cheating if it’s with another guy, and this type of shit happens all the times in bands like ours. She was right, too. Hell, you’ve been on Warped.”

“Yeah I have,” I say, smiling fondly at the memories. “And for the record, Johnny’s gotten much better.”

“I’m glad.” He laughs nervously and suddenly bangs his fist on the console, groaning in irritation. “It’s not going away!”

“What’s not?” I ask, confused.

He looks at me pointedly.

“ _Oh_ ,” I say, biting my lip. “Sorry.”

“You should be.”

I think he’s mad at me again for a second until I feel him kiss my forehead. Smirking, I lift my head until I can see his face. “Can I see it?”

His expression is priceless. “What? Why?”

“Why not?” I reply, shrugging. “I’m here, you’re here. It’s here. None of us are going anywhere.”

“Oh, my _God_!” he exclaims, staring at the ceiling as though it’s going to tell him what to do. “Fine. Go ahead. But this is my payment for the cardinal sin.”

“Deal,” I agree, happily lowering my hands to his waist and unfastening the button on his jeans. He continues to look upwards, wiggling slightly as I pull down the zip. “Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“Because I’m _embarrassed_!” he says with a short laugh.

I pause with my hand hovered over the bulging flap of his boxers. Holy Christ. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Just fucking do it, Benji.” He slaps his hand over his eyes and start chanting “Oh, my God” over and over under his breath.

Trying not to touch him directly, I pull the flap over until his cock pops through the hole, hard and thick and fucking _huge_. I think my jaw dropped, but I can’t be sure. It’s not abnormally large or anything, although it’s definitely the biggest I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a _lot_. “Well,” I say, clearing my throat. “You’re definitely bigger than Brian.”

He snorts into his hand. “I already knew that, but thanks.”

“I don’t suppose I can touch it?” I ask hopefully.

“Please don’t,” he says, removing his hand and looking at me with wounded eyes. “I’m already in enough pain as it is.”

I look from his face to his cock and back up again. “ _You_ touch it, then.”

His eyes widen. “What, now?”

“Yes.” I slide halfway off of him and squeeze between him and the console, burying my face in his neck and kissing every piece of skin I can find. “That would be so hot.”

“Really?” he asks skeptically, moaning softly as my tongue flicks the gauge in his ear. “Val’s never asked me to do it.”

“She’s probably too embarrassed.” I cover his hand with mine and slide it slowly down his chest. “Try it sometime. I bet she’ll love it as much as I do.”

He arches his back and lets out a strangled moan as I wrap his fingers around his cock and get him started. His forehead creases and his mouth parts; I watch him intently as I let him take over and trail my fingertips in random patterns around his chest.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses, turning to meet my eyes. “You’re really enjoying this.”

“How’d you guess?” I reply with a smile, darting my eyes down to see his stomach muscles contract with every pump of his cock.

“I can feel you,” he says. “Against my leg.”

I look between us and, sure enough, my crotch is pressed right into his thigh. “Do you want me to move?” I ask sincerely.

“No,” he says firmly. “I like it.”

“Okay.” I push my hips towards him, gently humping his leg, and I feel his breathing quicken. I return my lips to his ear and lick the tragus, grinning when he squeezes his cock and moans deeply. “I want to watch you come, Matt,” I whisper. “Tell me what to do to help you.”

“Touch me,” he gasps between gulps for air. “Anywhere. Kiss me. Bite me.”

“Bite you?” I repeat incredulously. “How hard?”

His chuckle is shaky. “As hard as you can. Just don’t leave a mark where anyone can see it.”

I shift downwards far enough to reach the top of his pectoral, which causes my erection to dig into his knee. I circle the area with my tongue, doing the same thing with my finger on the other side, and suddenly clamp my teeth down onto his flesh.

He lets out this ear-piercing scream and bucks his hips completely off of the seat, fisting his cock at a lightning-fast speed. “ _Benji_ ,” he whines. “I’m so _close_.”

I bite him again, taking his nipple between my thumb and forefinger. He moans pitifully and writhes around underneath me like a fish out of water, squeezing his cock from base to tip and back again while his face turns an interesting shade of purple. His knees shake presumably of their own accord, one of which vibrates along my crotch and makes me pinch his nipple _hard_ , and I look up just in time to see his face contort. He whispers my name amidst a low groan as he squirts onto his stomach, and I do the same as I come in my pants.

As both of our bodies completely still, our staggered breathing drowns out the pounding rain and barely audible music drifting from the speakers. A vibration from his pocket makes me jump across the console into the driver’s seat, and he finds this hilariously funny as he flips open his cell and answers the call.

It’s so quiet that I can hear Zacky perfectly on the other end. “Where the fuck are you, Sanders? We are in need of beer.”

“Have you been outside, jerkass?” Matt replies. “It’s fucking storming.”

“It _was_ fucking storming. The goddamn sun is out now and it’s barely drizzling. Where the fuck are you?”

“Hanging out,” he says casually, winking at me. “Waiting for the storm to let up.”

“Well, it’s ‘let up’.” Zacky pauses. “What did you two do to pass the time?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you tell him about your giant boycrush on him?”

He glances at me. “You could say that.”

~*~*~*~

It’s seven o’clock at night when I wake up from my extended nap, once again alone in bed when I know for a fact that I fell asleep in someone’s arms. Frustrated, I pound the empty half of the bed with my fist and hear someone walking into the room.

“Miss me already?” Matt teases, setting something onto the bed.

The smell of food wafts by my nose and I pop open an eye. “Did I miss dinner?”

“Yeah,” he says, arranging the plate and utensils on the tray. “I saved you some, though. Had to stop the rest of the guys from inhaling it all, but I managed.”

“Thank you,” I reply in amazement, still trying to wake up. “Pancakes?”

Matt snorted. “Zacky cooked. Papa Gates takes off on Sunday night every year and leaves us on our own. Brian asked him where he goes once and got chased around the kitchen with a frying pan.”

“Interesting,” I reply absently, digging into the food. I haven’t eaten all day, having gone straight to sleep with Matt after our very long trip to Wal-Mart, and I’m too hungry to pay attention to anything he says. After I devour the second pancake, I look up to find him staring at me. “What?”

“I’m really glad you came this weekend, Benji,” he tells me earnestly.

I swallow. “Me too,” I say. All six times.

He smiles, flashing those dimples for me again.

I have a strong feeling that he’s waiting for me to finish eating, so I hurry up and drop my fork onto the empty plate with a defined _bang_. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I watch him place the tray on the floor and crawl up the length of my body.

“Hmm, what do you want, I wonder?” I ask mischievously, sliding my hands up his arms as he hovers over me.

Wordlessly, he bows his head to lick around my lips, presumably catching some neglected syrup with his tongue. My mouth falls open as I inhale sharply; his tongue slips easily inside and I pull him flush on top of me as we kiss deeply.

“Matt,” I say softly.

“Shh,” he says, putting his finger to my lips. I suck it into my mouth and smile as his eyelids flutter. “Benji, you still owe me for your last sin.”

I push his finger out of my mouth and flick the tip with my tongue. “I suppose you have come seeking payment?”

“Yes.” He pulls his finger away and raises himself off of the bed. “Follow me.”

Raising an eyebrow, I throw off the covers and meet him on the other side of the bed, where he leads me down the hall and into the bathroom. The lights are off, but there are about fourteen flickering candles sporadically placed along the counter and around the bathtub, which is filled with sweet-smelling water. “You fucking sap. Is this all for me?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I was going to ask you to do that thing you were talking about earlier in the car, and I wanted to be clean when you did it.” He glances at me and even in the dim light, I can see him blush.

I don’t really want him to be submissive tonight, but I think I know how I can turn the tables. “That’s good,” I purr, strolling up to him and stopping about an inch from his face. “Because I’ve been a _dirty_ boy.”

His eyes flash as they catch the light, and he looks me up and down before replying. “Get naked and get in the tub.”

That’s more like it. I slowly pull my shirt over my head, watching his eyes as they examine every piece of my skin as it’s exposed. He does the same thing as I lower my shorts, licking his lips when he sees my erection. How he hasn’t been with another man before now, I’ll never know, because he clearly loves the cock.

I bend over purposefully as I climb into the tub, sinking into the warm water and turning around to face him. Without moving his eyes from mine, he strips erotically and approaches me like a cat on the prowl, pausing when he finally reaches me, his lips about an inch from mine.

Floating backwards towards the seat, I pull him into my lap, my hands roaming over his firm ass as he closes the distance between us and kisses me. His cock rubs against mine as he spreads his legs and straddles me completely; he gasps into my mouth at the contact.

Even in the weightlessness of the water, his thighs tremble as I trail one finger around the bottom of his ass, circling his hole. He breaks our kiss harshly and buries his face into my neck, breathing hard against my skin. “Oh, my God,” he whispers.

“Shh,” I tell him soothingly, lifting my free hand to massage the tense muscles of his back. I raise my eyes over his shoulder and see us reflected in a mirror across the room, a wavering display of bare skin and light amidst moving shadows. “Matt, turn around. You’ve got to see this.”

He whines in protest as I move my hand away, but I can feel his abrupt intake of breath as he spins and catches sight of us in the mirror. Before he can speak, I slide my hands up the back of his thighs, urging him to stand up far enough for his ass to barely break the surface of the water. I press a kiss to his cheek, feeling the muscle twitch under my lips and giving him a chance to say no. A low groan reverberates through the bathroom as he realizes what I’m about to do; I take that as permission to proceed and lick my way towards the center while I spread him open with my thumbs.

The howl he emits is loud enough to echo repeatedly, and by the time it fades away, I have my tongue completely inside him. He’s shuddering before me and gripping onto the seat across from us for support, although I’m sure that his knees would collapse if I wasn’t partially holding him up to my face. I wish I could see his face right now, but _he_ can see his face and somehow that makes me even harder.

Despite his lack of balance, he moves back against me, slowly fucking himself on my tongue. He’s grunting under his breath but I can’t hear what he’s saying, although an occasional “fuck” and “Benji” reach my ears. His jerky motions cause the water to slosh around, rising and falling over my chin and his balls. His whole body is shaking now, and I reluctantly withdraw my tongue and pull him back into my lap, taking care to slide my cock along the crack of his ass.

He collapses against me, his head falling on my shoulder as though it has no other option, and it looks even hotter in the steamy mirror. “Did you like that?” I whisper into his ear, my fingers skimming the fine hairs on his inner thighs towards his cock.

“ _Fuck_ yes,” he breathes, spreading his legs invitingly for me. “That was amazing.”

“I’m not done.” Licking his ear, I reach over to the side of the tub where I noticed a series of items scattered about. I feel my fingers close over a bottle and scan the label. “Ooh, cherry flavored. How appropriate.”

He chuckles, leaning back against my chest and almost motionlessly rubbing against my cock. “I thought you would like that.”

The label says “edible,” so I squirt some into my mouth. “Damn, this tastes good,” I say surprisingly. “Try it.”

I hold the bottle up to his lips, and he darts out his tongue to catch the thin stream of liquid. He makes a big show of licking his lips, craning his neck around to kiss me and suck on my tongue. “Mmm, you’re right,” he says against my lips. “It is good.”

I struggle to catch my breath as I see us in the mirror, him slowly moving up and down while running his tongue along my throat. All I want to do is shift him over two inches and bury myself inside him, but I know that it’s his first time and I’ll have to be gentle.

“Benji,” he says in a whisper, a hint of urgency to his voice. “Come on.”

Hoping this stuff is waterproof, I cover my fingers with it and submerge them in the water, forcing them between our bodies and tracing the rim of his hole. He jerks upwards and slams back down, indirectly impaling himself on my finger and gasping in shock.

“This will be uncomfortable at first,” I say, holding him down with my free hand as I wiggle my finger around in an attempt to stretch him out. “But it will get better, I promise.”

“Okay,” he replies. “I trust you.”

I press my lips to the back of his neck, flicking my tongue between the vertebrae of his upper spine as I insert another finger and point them downwards. His muscles spontaneously contract and he lets out this deep moan that I can feel in my toes, and I make it a point to graze that spot again while sneaking in a third finger.

“Shit,” he hisses, pushing back against my fingers. “I think I’m ready, Benji. Fuck me.”

I groan against his neck, fumbling around in the assortment of goodies until I feel a foil packet. “Do you want to do it like this?”

He catches my eye in the part of the mirror that hasn’t been fogged up yet. “Yes.”

“Okay.” I lift my hips out of the water long enough to roll the condom on before sitting back down and quickly lubing my cock. “Come here,” I say softly, wrapping one arm around his upper chest while the other loops around his waist, urging him backwards.

My cock finds his hole without aid, as though it’s meant to be there, and I slowly pull him towards me while nibbling on his back. His breath stills as my cock slips all the way in. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, panting for air. “It feels… full.”

I bite back my laugh and tighten my hold on him, beginning to move my hips back and forth in a snail-like pace. Leaning to the side, I look around him and see the most beautiful scene in the mirror; he stares unseeingly, mouth gaped open, bracing himself on my knees like he wants nothing more than to ride me within an inch of my life. “Matt,” I rasp, my voice lacking substance. “Move.”

Firmly grabbing my knees, he lifts up almost far enough for me to withdrawal completely, slamming down with enough force to make me scream his name. He’s so tight that I can’t fucking move; my hands fall limply to his hips and hold on like I’m going to fall if he lets go as he starts bouncing on my cock.

“ _Fuck_!” he growls, a strangled groan that makes my eyes roll back into my head a little bit. “Benji… fuck…”

My name in _that_ tone seems to refill my energy supply, and I clutch his hips hard enough to leave bruises and thrust upwards to meet his efforts, angering the water even more. I can tell he’s touching himself by the sudden change in his rhythm, and I bring one of my hands around to join his on his impossibly hard cock. I sink my teeth into the flesh right underneath his shoulder blade for a lack of a better place, and he arches his back and roars like a goddamn lion as he lifts up and slams down, lifts up and slams down at an alarmingly fast pace, fisting his cock with wild abandon as I roll the head around in the palm of my hand.

As he nears completion, he loses his cadence completely and I take over, yanking him flush against my chest while bucking my hips underneath him. His entire body convulses on top of me and I feel his release shoot through my fingers as I squeeze the head of his cock and thrust as fast as I can through his clenched muscles, moaning his name when I come.

His cock falls from my hand, limp and spent, and all of his weight crumples against me. I reach between us and snap off the condom, tossing it aside and wrapping him in my arms. He shifts to snuggle in my embrace; grinning like a fool, I lean down to kiss his lips.

He kisses me back and looks up at me, his eyes more clouded than the mirror. “I could love you for more than an hour,” he says quietly. “As long as you’ll have me, even.”

I chuckle until I see the serious expression on his face. “What about Val?”

The corners of his lips creep up into a smirk. “Somehow, I think she’ll understand.”

~*~*~*~

“I can’t believe it’s _over_ ,” Zacky whines, leaning on Brian as though he couldn’t walk otherwise. “I don’t _wanna_ go back to work.”

“You act like you have a real job,” Brian replies, slamming the trunk of his car and playfully pushing Zacky away from him.

“Putting up with your shit _is_ a real job,” Zacky retorts, choosing to lean on me instead.

Matt glares at him from across the driveway. Zacky rolls his eyes and stands on his own, sighing like the end of the world is among us.

“Until next year, then,” Papa Gates says with a grin, making his rounds hugging all of us good-bye.

“It was really nice meeting you,” I tell him honestly, returning the gesture full force.

“Bring your brother with you next time, yeah?” he suggests, a twinkle in his eye. “The more the merrier.”

“Yeah, Benji,” says Johnny, sounding entirely too amused. “Bring Joel next year. He’ll have a blast.”

I make a face. “I bet.”

Matt covers up his snort and finishes loading my car. “I’ll see you later,” he tells me with a wink that only I can see.

“Wait!” cries Johnny, looking devastated. “My car isn’t here. Who’s taking me home?”

I open my mouth to offer, but Matt clamps his hand over it.

“I can,” says an unfamiliar voice, and I turn to see this tall, lanky dude with bad hair and a labret stud.

I bat Matt’s hand away and narrow my eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

~*~*~*~

I fall in my front door, dropping my bags and my person on the floor and scaring the shit out of Joel and Hilary. “Oh, my God!” Joel exclaims, hurdling over the back of my couch and crouching in front of me. “What did they do to you?”

“Why are you still here?” I yell into the carpet. “Don’t you have your own house?”

He frowns at me and stands up, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re welcome, you ungrateful shit.”

“Yeah, thanks,” I say tonelessly, heaving myself off of the floor. “You can leave now. I need to sleep for a year.”

Hilary raises an eyebrow. “That bad?”

I regard her like I might regard a bug crawling in my shower. “That _good_.”

“Really?” Joel asks innocently. “Maybe I should go next year.”

Cringing visibly, I push past him and head up the stairs. “You couldn’t handle it.”

Joel’s voice follows me. “I don’t know. I made it through Warped and lived to _not_ tell the tale.”


End file.
